The end of winter in mid-Pennsylvania:Three snowflakes look at the ground around them as the grass begins to gain its color. They had seen a large number of those like themselves join with them and spend a long time with them but they all had died; casulties of heat. They were the last three, struggling to hold on, to survive, to see a time where they would once again be part of a large, thriving civilization. A duck walked by and vacated his bowels, instantly obliterating two of them, while the last became horrified. Suddenly he felt sunrays bathing over him and knew that this was the end and used his last moments to curse the spring, to curse the heat, to curse the duck, to curse the oblivious bystanders who cared not for his plight.

Meddle not with Roosters; thou art crunchy and look like a grasshopper -※SABRFL※If you can read this, you might be banned